Chipped:The Story of a Mutant
by Caradoc
Summary: Not really having to do with X men...more mutants and the govt. Hope you like...my first fan fic. Italics didnt work, so it may be confusing at some parts. Just remeember for when she's not being professional, those are her thoughts. Please review


Author's Note: yes, although this has the main central theme of X-Men...mutants...you, the reader will never see from Prof. X, or he (Wo)Men. Sorry. This is about one guy's struggle with his powers, and the evils of a corrupt government, implanting mutants with stuff. yeah. so, if you are a big X-Men fan, with Magneto n' friends, put down this now. NOW.   
  
Prologue:  
  
The year was 1986. Mutants first appeared. Even some of the most strong advocates of Darwinism were against it, because in their minds, mutation, the key to evolution, could not happen in Homo sapiens. We were already perfected. The US government, seeing danger in this new breed of human tracked every mutant man, woman, and child, and in their sleep, implanted them with a microchip. In case of emergency, this chip could be set off, leading agents to the home of mutants, where they could be...exterminated. However, there was one major flaw in this flawless plan. If the case were to arise, every mutant could be killed at once. To avoid this catastrophe, the government, in secret, made a new department. The Department of Mutant Relations. (DMR) at the helm of this department was a mad genius, Dr. Christopher Harding, the inventor of the microchip. In one foul swoop, a population of genetically different humans could be wiped out. This is what Dr. Harding intended to do, if the need arose. His finger was on the trigger. 23 years later, in the year 2009, that finger began to itch. Man was about to battle itself.   
  
Chapter One:  
  
3/14/09  
  
I heard the voices again today, at the gas station. I think I'm going crazy. But, then again, I KNOW I'm crazy. 23 years old and still living with his parents. Woo! Hot stuff! College is only 10 minutes away, what do you expect me to do? Live by myself and not have free food? It's good to have SOME stability in my life. Yes, I, Peter McClaran, red-headed, skinny, dork shall face the world with a new objective today...find a girlfriend. I know, I know, you must be thinking, being such a stud, that I have TONS of girlfriends...well, sorry to disappoint you, but that isn't so. Oh well, maybe tomorrow. We have meatloaf for dinner tonight! Oh, Jesus, no wonder I haven't had a girlfriend since I was a senior in high school...blah. Well, I have to write a 10 page paper on human evolution tonight. Fun stuff, I know. Why didn't I major in something else....something.....fun? Like....ah well, I don't know. It just seems like anthropology isn't the best paying or most popular job in the world. But, I'm sure when this all works out, it'll be all right. Washington is beginning to recognize mutants for what they really are now. they unveiled plans for a new department, he Department of Mutants, or something like that. Maybe it will work out at least 2% better than the Homeland Security Department. What a joke. Anyways, they're thinking about putting this scientist, Chris Harding at the head of the Mutant Department. I read on the intranet that he is against mutant rights. Finally, someone smart will be in the White House. But, this new mutant thing has gotten me asking some questions about people. Like, just how many mutants are there around me? I mean, even my best friend could be one. Or my parents... Well, I believe mutants should be locked up. maybe they could be chipped or something, after all they DO have powers that could help them commit crimes. I think I'll include that in my paper tonight. All the conspiracy theorists are saying mutants are the next wave in human evolution. But what they don't understand is that there are anomalies in evolution. Ignorance. Just plain ignorance. Well, sorry I went off on a tangent there, it's just some things really piss me off...  
  
?  
  
Finally, we can end the mutant problem. No, thank YOU Mr. President. and the people think that mutants are a new problem. Ignorance. I suppose I must find my speech that I've been saving for 20 years now, once that these creatures are wiped off the face of the earth. Of course, we still chip the bastards. it's only fair. We've killed 34 now. 34 out of 3,589,642 mutants. And THAT is only in America. The way I will have it, habeas corpus for mutants will be a thing of the past. But for now, we'll invent a chip that carries smallpox. If we want to, if a mutant ahs this new chip, we can kill them without ever dispatching our agents. Or, better yet, we can use some of them. their powers can be very useful...some can teleport, read minds, control minds...and the list goes on. In fact, drafting of the Mutant Act is almost complete. It will be like the Patriot Act II, only better, and for mutants only. First, it will legalize the chipping of mutants. Also, it will legalize us being able to put viruses in the chips. Not like it needs legalization, though. It will provide amnesty for those mutants willing to work for us...but those who don't....will die. Finally, the last main point, those harboring non-cooperative mutants are automatically eligible for the death penalty. What? you thought the death penalty was outlawed in '07? True, it was...but on US soil only. Ship them off to Guam, and the law doesn't stand. That's the beauty of the government...there's always a loophole. Always. Sometimes you just have to look harder. Dr. Chris Harding is finally about to get the recognition he deserves.   
  
Chapter 2  
  
7/03/09  
  
4 months have passed since I first heard the voices. The voices are getting louder. I've been up for 36 hours, and they won't go away. WHY WON'T THEY GO AWAY? I just want some sleep. I hear them everywhere now, except when I'm alone. I look like hell. I need to go far away. I can't stand this any more. They talk about me. They say how crazy I look. But sometimes, I'll hear them talk about other things. Each one has a different voice. Every one seems familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. I'm gonna drive until no one's around. They'll only stop then. On second thought, I need to get far, far away from here. I'm gonna go out and buy a plane ticket. To where? I don't know. Oh Jeez. I don't even remember getting here. The voices are everywhere now. Slowly, I shuffled over to the counter.  
  
Oh God, he looks like hell. I bet he's wasted  
  
I heard the voice clearly that time. They usually are just whispers.  
  
"H-H-Hello?"  
  
Hello sir! How may I help you? How did I ever end up here? Why can't I get a REAL job?  
  
The voices were the same...I couldn't be...but I was hearing her thoughts I read her nametag, Maria, it said, in large, block letters.   
  
"Maria, what's the cheapest plane ticket you have?"  
  
"Well sir they're all grossly overpriced, but I suppose I'll give you one to.....Algeria. that'll keep you out of my face. Jerk. "Well sir, we do have a wonderful trip to Algeria. Here. have a brochure!"   
  
"Uh...Maria...I don't ant to go to Algeria. But, I would like to take you out sometime. I know I look like hell, but, it's been a rough week...If you say no...I'll understand."  
  
Well, he does seem pretty sweet. But......... "Sure."  
  
"R-r-r-r-really? I mean, uh, that's cool"  
  
She gave me her phone number and address. then, I left. "Well, that was fruitful," I thought while driving off.   
  
When I flicked on the TV, the Harding guy was talking. I didn't listen for long, but what I heard was enough.  
  
"...what we have here is a problem. I have a list of every known mutant....I'm sorry a lost of some KNOWN mutants in America. These mutants, some possessing psychic powers, some having reign over the laws of physics NEED to be detained before they can do further damage. As the newly appointed head of the Department Of Mutant Relations I propose a law that will keep every mutant in America have to be ID'ed. It's only..." Then I turned it off. No....I couldn't be one of.....them.  
  
7/15/09  
  
I think my powers are getting stronger. I'm now on my 5th date with Maria in 1 ½ months, and, if I try, I can see into her past, delve into her mind. It's that way with everyone now. I've learned to control the voices. I can turn them on and off at will. I think I'm in love now. Yes, that's right. Me. In love. I haven't told her about my…..powers yet, but I don't think I will anyway. Some things are better left alone, especially with the anti-mutant sentiment growing. The DMR is now the most highly funded department in the US government. Even it after being made only 8 months ago. But, I suppose as long as no one knows I'm one of them, I'm home free. I finally moved out of my parent's house 2 months ago. I couldn't stand their thoughts, about me, each other, and the world. Before I left, however, I did delve into my father's mind a bit. I couldn't help it. It turns out he was working on some microchip tracker thing for animals, and guess who was his boss? Dr. Christopher Harding. Supposedly this chip was for tracking animals, but I find that hard to believe, personally. He did this way back in 1985, but some animal trackers still don't have this technology. My father, bless his heart, was mum on the topic. He always was a strange bird. They seemed sorry to see me go, but their thoughts said differently. It's kind of embarrassing ton hear people's innermost thoughts, other times it's hilarious. I've also learned to stay clear of some people who seem fine on the outside, but their thoughts are murderous, and make my blood run cold. The Harding guy is getting maniacal. Yet, a couple months ago, I was thinking the same things he is just now carrying out. Crimes committed by mutants have tripled, such as one guy who robbed a bank by morphing into the bank's manager, and stealing all the money. Although people's thoughts are clear as regular conversations when I want them to be, there always will be a slight buzz, when I try to turn it off. Some thoughts are very clear, and loud. I suspect these are mutants, for some reason. Anyways, I suppose I should be heading off, G'night!  
  
?  
  
A listening and improved tracking device. Ah, the spoils of a technological world. We'll now be able to listen to them AND be able to track them down to the nearest .000000000000000000001 of an inch. Makes sharp shooting work in the dark a helluva lot easier. All thanks to our core research team from '85. Good times, good times. McClaran, Mandel, "Smith", Wright, Clemenzi, Ryder, and myself, all back together again. Of course, one, Beck, refused to return, and threatened to tell everyone, so we sewed his mouth shut, took an axe and...well, that's not important...Anyways, every scientist is under the best surveillance in the system. Especially McClaran. his son is a mutant. Poor, poor man. I hope we'll never have to silence him or his son, it would be a tragic loss. After all, HE made the original breakthrough in the chips. All the chips in the US are being updated this very second, and every one will be updated in 36 hours. The Mutant Act blazed through the house and the Senate, in secret of course. At least we don't have the UN snooping around in this. We all know how that failed in WWIII in '04. As I, and my policies grow in popularity, the next stop for me of course....is the White House. See you in 2012!   
  
Chapter 3: The plot Thickens   
  
10/18/09  
  
Well, tonight is the night. after 3 months of dating, I am going to ask Maria to marry me. yes, finally, I can settle down with my new job and start a family. The past 3 years have gone without much happening in the world. No one knows about my powers, which have grown stronger and been perfected. Not even Maria. But, I think once we're married, I'll tell her. Her thoughts always are clearer than everyone else's. Maybe it's because I love her....but then again, maybe she's a mutant also. The Harding guy is running for president...and winning the polls, although he's become more maniacal. There are unverified rumors of mutants being killed in their sleep, but I don't believe them. My dad has been hard at work with something having to do with he government now. At least he has a steady job, although he never comes home anymore. Jeez, I'm so nervous. Bah, I'm so scatterbrained, I forgot my watch at mom's house. I'll have to call Maria and tell her I'll be late. The house is dark, but the car's in the driveway. Well, maybe they went out with the neighbors. I use my key, but the door's unlocked. "Mom? Dad?" I wearily call into the darkness. No answer. I step upstairs into my old room, but there's movement in the hallway. I duck behind my bed, breathing hard and fast. I hear my father's voice, out of breath and sounding very angry. "No, Harding not this time. I got you the listening device and the chip, but no. Putting smallpox into the existing chips would be suicide! What if it were to accidentally get out?" A pause. "Don't flatter me, Harding, if you'll remember my SON is a mutant. I'm not about to inject fatal disease into him just in case he commits a crime! Get Mandel to do your dirty work! I already injected him with a chip. you updated it. that's all you need. If he's a danger, send agents. It's simple!" A long pause. "Fine. I'll be there soon." There was a click as he clipped the phone to his belt. The door slammed, and a car peeled out of the driveway. He must not of seen my car. Breathing hard and shaking, I stumble out of the house. I can barely drive as I finally register what's happened in my mind. Mutants have chips in them. Listening devices. Soon, smallpox will be inserted. Do they have a tracking device? I didn't know. My mind was racing. I got to the restaurant for my date with Maria 15 minutes late.  
  
In an underground bunker in Washington, a surveillance agent clicked on a machine that called agents to the seen. Peter McClaran went about his business.   
  
  
  
?  
  
Dr. Christopher Harding stepped out of his personal helicopter. His new Italian leather shoes sunk in the mud. "Oh, damn these shoes were new too." It was five minutes after his disastrous phone call with his top scientist, Henry McClaran. Then, his phone rang again. He listened for a few minutes. "McClaran's son? You sure he heard?" The person on the other line played back the recording, then the time signature, chip number, and name of the mutant. "He'll know. The kid isn't stupid." Harding sighed "He's left me no choice. He's heard too much." A long pause "Finish him."   
  
?  
  
Oh yes yes yes yes yes!! This date is going too well. It turns out that Maria got there late anyway. Now, or a romantic movie by a fire, then, I'll pop the question. Oh, God this is surreal almost. Thank God I didn't fall asleep during that movie. Blah. I hear someone's else's thoughts. They're dark. Well, no time for that now. Now's the time. I stand her up, get down on one knee. She gasps and blushes. I open my mouth to ask. Suddenly, the window shatters. Specks of blood fly on my face.  
  
??  
  
Ugh. Harding's getting on my nerves. The third time THIS WEEK that I've been called up to silence a mutant. Damn them. So, here I am, holding a sniper rifle looking inside this nerd's house, waiting for a shot, when I could be home with my OWN boyfriend. I'll have to charge extra for this. Ah, I have a perfect shot now, but I won't take it. I'll let him watch his movie. I sit. And wait. Ah, now, a more perfect shot . I'll take it. Silently putting on my silencer, when I look up, he's in the same position. On one knee. I take the shot. The glass shatters into a million pieces. Maybe he was proposing. I'll never know. Neither will she. Satisfied, I slink into my company car, and drive off.   
  
??  
  
The glass shattered. Blood spattered on my face. Oh God, what's happened. My head reels for two seconds. Then I realize what's happened. Maria is laying on the couch, clutching her abdomen, where, on one knee, my head was just a moment ago. I had bent down because I had dropped the ring in my nervousness. Feathers from the stuffing of the couch are falling everywhere. The bullet went through her entire body. Oh, God, Oh God. I move her hand and look at her wound. My hands are immediately is covered in blood. I clutch her face. She doesn't say anything. A single tear runs down her cheek. "Don't die, Don't die. I love you." I repeat this over and over, like a mantra. Her blue eyes look at me. A trickle of blood and saliva comes out of her mouth. He pupils dilate. Her hand, just a few seconds ago had clutched my arm like a vice, loosened. I clutch her body, trembling. After about 10 minutes I put her head neatly on the pillow. It's started to rain now. I walk out the front door, not even bothering to close it. A cold wind blows in.   
  
Peter McClaran, after walking 15 minutes, collapsed in the street. A black van found him. Veiled faces handcuffed him, and threw him into the back of the van. It sped into the night, tires squealing.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
6/19/09  
  
I woke up sitting across from Christopher Harding. I was greeted with "Good morning, my little buttercup." I smiled sweetly, and bade him good morning as well. "As you can tell, you're not dead. Although you should be." The smile faded from my face. "She's dead, isn't she?" this time, it was Harding's turn to smile. "Of course, my dear boy. Although my agent shot the wrong person, the bullet did not lose its lethality. By the time this is over, I assure you, she will have a second chance, I'm sure." A glass of water and an Advil slid across the table. "Here. It's been a rough night." I realized I wasn't handcuffed or restrained. The door was open. "Don't try to escape, you'll be dead before you take one step." I threw the glass of water at Harding. It missed. "Ha, my boy. She's dead. Get over it. Just as I did." "Really now, I'd like to hear that story. But first, tell me why you tried to blow out my brains." The smile faded from Harding's face. "It's simple, child. You know too much." "How do you know that, Dr. Harding?" A chuckle. "my boy, haven't you figured it out? Every mutant is implanted with a microchip. That microchip tracks you, and has a listening device. Just feel on the top of your collarbone. That's where it is. Thank your father for this wonderful technology. " My hand reflexively felt my collarbone. He was right, there was a lump. Right where he said it was. Now it was time to escape. Before I was killed. Or worse. I reached into his mind. "Anna was her name, wasn't it?" "What are you talking about?" Harding snarled. "She was the love of your life, and vice versa. Oh how you loved her. 1985. Surely you remember now…" Harding's lip quivered. "You bent down to kiss her. There always was a buzz of electricity there. She was the only one who WOULD put up with you. You figured it out in our mind. She could control electrical currents. At that point, you were already in the midst of your anti-mutant campaign. If the American people knew you were dating a mutant, it would be suicide. So one night, while she was sleeping, you put a gun to her head, and.." Harding howled. He flipped the table, flinging the Advil tablet across the room. I saw my chance, I kicked him in the back of the neck. I took the gun from his waist, and put it in my pocket. This man wasn't deserving of a quick death. I took the broken bottom on the glass of water, and smashed it into his neck. Harding was face down on the floor, and bleeding profusely. I ran out the door, and jumped into the first car I found. The alarm wailed, but I didn't care. I had to go to my parent's house.   
  
Harding was found by his assistants 30 minutes after Peter McClaran left. Still bleeding from the neck, they could only distinguish three words. "Kill. The. Bastard."   
  
Chapter 5  
  
10/5/11  
  
Sometimes, I really hate myself for turning on the recorder that day, two years ago. If I hadn't done that, I would be on another case, maybe retired. But lo! I am still trying to track down Peter McClaran, on the vice-president's order. Some days, I just want to rat Harding out for killing all those government officials. Speaker of the House, president pro tempore of the Senate...the list goes on. But then he decides to be ELECTED by the people. What a jerk. I haven't had a lead in 6 months. Maybe the guy's dead. Maybe not. Maybe we'll never know....  
  
?  
  
It's been quite a while. Quite a while. They've never stopped hunting me, I'm sure. Perhaps they'll stop. They're everywhere, I know it. Around every corner. Informants. I look like the Unabomber, I know. People shy away from me. Others don't. I avoid those, I know they're informants. I think I'm in Canada. Or maybe Alaska. I never know anymore. The newspaper says that almost three years have passed. I find that hard to believe. I've been spreading propaganda everywhere. I sleep outside, in the biting cold...running...always running....  
  
?  
  
Everything is going perfectly. The presidential campaign, the silent killings....All without a hitch. Except one. He, the young boy, the one who has no idea, the enigma of naivety, is my greatest enemy. For that reason, 10 FBI agents follow him now. He's not dead, I know that for a fact. Agents are tightening the noose around him right now. We'll inject him with smallpox. Non-contagious, of course. All of this will be over soon. I will be president, and the mutants will be dead. All of them.   
  
Chapter 6  
  
The Final Chapter  
  
12/25/11  
  
Merry Christmas, Peter McClaran. When you wake up, you will find a hypodermic needle in your side. I will be long gone, and so will you, in about a week. You will come down with a fever, then boils will erupt all over your body. Then you will die, slowly, painfully. Mr. McClaran, do not resist, for your fate is sealed. The authorities will find your bloated, slightly green body in the middle of the street, in New York City, and think it is a bad case of food poisoning. You have no records, Mr. McClaran, you do not exist.  
  
?  
  
They found him! Peter McClaran, dead soon. Imagine. As a result, I am launching a full fledged political campaign. No one has any dirt on me. My first stop is New York city, in 2 days. On the bus I go. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!   
  
?  
  
12/27/11   
  
My throat is dry, I'm light headed. I stagger over to the light post, hanging on to it for dear life. My head reels, I'm hallucinating. I see Harding's face smiling at me form the lamp post. Reality hits. He's coming here today. In the building in front of me. No, in two hours. I fall in the snow, my nose now bleeding. In delirium, I buy pull the gun I stole from Harding all those years ago out of my pocket. Boils are popping all over my body. I moan in agony as I sit in an alley, hands shaking, loading my gun. A voice booms from inside. It's Harding. His campaign has begun. I rise to my feet, a mixture of blood and saliva slowly dripping from my mouth. I fall twice on my way in, but I eventually make it. There are bodyguards everywhere. The president is here as well, supporting his vice president. The guards outside the door are wide eyed as the man entered the building, a blast of cold air hitting them. Before they had time to react, two shots were fired. The guards fell to the ground, dead, a bullet hole in their head.   
  
?  
  
Harding could've sworn he heard shots. Amidst the cheering, he had heard nothing. He ignored it, continuing after a brief pause 'And that is why I promise YOU, the American people a life free of..." He fell to the ground, clutching his head. This was the worst headache of them all. His guards fell around him, beginning to administer CPR. No one noticed the scraggly looking young man draw his pistol at point blank range.   
  
?  
  
I couldn't believe my eyes at first. Perched on top of the ceiling, I had a birds eye view of everything. peter McClaran. Here. Now. With a gun, pointing it at the president. No one saw him, but me, and the President. I drew my sniper rifle, aimed, and fired.   
  
?  
  
Peter had drawn his gun, pointing it at the president, He didn't know what he was doing. Just as he drew his finger around the trigger, a bullet hit him at the base of the neck, shattering bone, blooding spattering everywhere. His finger tightened automatically, as a result of rigor mortis. He fell to the ground, face down, a fountain of blood spurting from his neck. The President lumped out of his chair, his eyes wide, a hole in his chest. The place erupted, women screaming, shots randomly being fired.  
  
?  
  
Still atop my perch I couldn't believe what I had just done. I had killed the president. I pulled a cord, rappelling down from the ceiling. Three years ago I had killed Peter McClaran's fiancé-to-be. I had just killed him, and the president. I put my rifle to my head, and fired.   
  
Epilogue  
  
AP NEWS WIRE  
  
YOUNG MUTANT KILLS PRESIDENT, VICE PRESIDENT DIES AT SCENE. 5 DEAD IN NEW YORK MASSACRE  
  
In what is being touted as the biggest government massacre in history, Peter McClaran, a 25 year old mutant from Washington D.C., broke into Vice President Harding's campaign rally in New York City earlier today, killing the President. Angie Mullinack, a reporter for the New York Times, described the scene "First, Harding fell, [the bodyguards] rushed around him, everyone thought he'd been shot. Then, this little guy with long hair came in." she added 'He looked real bad...boils all over him...his eyes were wild. He pulled out his gun, and shot the president. Then, he got shot, right in the head. Another bodyguard fell from the ceiling, and shot herself in the head...it was utter chaos." An autopsy revealed that Vice President Harding suffered from encephalitis, giving him his fiery temper, and his radical ideals. Little information is being released, but what sources can gather is that bodyguards fired into the crowd, killing a 45 year old woman, and a 10 year old boy. Names of the dead have not yet been released. McClaran's father was a researcher, his mother a housewife. Anonymous sources now coming forward are saying the Harding led the assassinations of all the government officials, giving him the vice president seats. These claims are unverified as of yet  
  
--14:56:23 PM 12/27/11 


End file.
